Unforseen Circumstances
by TheMaskedRiddler
Summary: 1 and a half years after the Conversion Bureaus first opened, everyone has picked a side. But an attempt is made on Celestia's life, by one of her own subjects. Who is this pony? Why does he think Celestia killed him? And what is his story? T for Violence
1. Chapter 1

So, my first fan-fic ever, publicly, and it's about ponies. Oh well. This is set in a modified version of Blaze's Conversion Bureau fic. This is about a year after most conversion bureaus closed up and headed back to Equestria. People either became ponies, or joined the HLF, the Human Liberation Front, and anti-pony movement. Well, not everyone. Anyways, enjoy, and don't forget to R & R.

Disclaimer As usual, I do not own My Little Pony, Equestria, The conversion Bureaus and anything else I missed. These are works of their respective owners. But I DO own any and all OC's that I've created. Those that are owned by someone else will be mentioned here.

I gulped nervously.

Have you heard that old human story, the one where 300 Spartan soldiers went up against an army of millions, went up against a man who proclaimed himself a god-ruler? They all died in the end, but they stood up against their enemy, and proved that he could be beaten. Months later, he was driven back to his home, defeated in his campaign.

All because 300 men drew the line. All because 300 men proved that no earthly being can be a god.

Exactly what I'm going to do today.

I'm sitting in a cubicle, hooves tapping nervously on the desk in front of me. A pistol lies next to the computer. I know it's loaded, I know that it will fire, yet I still get the urge to check it, to pull it apart and make sure everything will work. I know it will. I never went to sleep last night, constantly checking and re-checking the weapon. I want to check it again, but if anyone saw or heard the unicorn magic or its inherent glow, they would wonder what was going on, what someone would need magic for on this wonderful day.

So I didn't check it, the gun sitting there, accusing me of what I was going to do. I looked up. Above the edge of my cubicle I could see the flowing blues and green approaching slowly making their way from cubicle to cubicle. Down the hallway I could hear laughter, chatter and the sound of armour against the cheap, plaster walls that make up the thousands of cubicles in the large office.

The body guards will be cramped against the walls, fitting themselves three wide in a space made for two. This I am counting on. It means that any co-ordination they have will be delayed, if only for a few seconds. This gives me the element of surprise. The 300 Spartans I mentioned. They won because they had the advantage; they lost because they lost it. I will have a few seconds to press my advantage. But all I need is one good second, and I will have won.

The ever-present sparkling hair moved closer. I was growing impatient, still wanting to check the gun, fear, anger and above all, sorrow, bubbling around inside me.

The hair kept on moving closer, the sounds of chatter and armour growing closer.

I stilled my hooves, placing them on the ground, and reaching inside of myself to grasp the magic that I had come to use for daily chores. The hair moved closer still, till it was about 5 cubicles away.

I heard more chatter, more armour.

Suddenly I grabbed the gun with my magic and leapt out of the cubicle. While still in the air I moved the pistol's iron sights up to my eye, and aimed at _**her**_ face. She was smiling. In my direction. Time stopped for what felt like hours, but what must have been nana-seconds. I screamed out one word, putting all my emotions into it. The anger, the sorrow, the fear, the hopelessness.

"DIE!"

I wrapped my magic around the trigger and pulled.

BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM,

Click,

Click,

Click,

Click,

Thud

The gun, spent, dropped to the ground. I stared in disbelief; the bullets had simply stopped in mid air, about a meter from my target. They dropped to the ground. _**She **_was still smiling, as I drooped to my haunches, knowing I had failed. After their initial shock, the guards rounded on me, pushing me back and holding down my legs.

"We have captured the would be assassin." One of the guards said.

_**She **_smiled and giggled. "Yes, I can see that." She replied, still smiling.

As I was being held down, one of the guards noticed my tracking ring. It's a small metal 'glove' of sorts, placed around the right fore-hoof of any human 'ponified' that is deemed untrustworthy, or that should be watched. Which is exactly what they were doing. They could be used to track anypony wearing one, and could be scanned with a special spell to read who the particular pony was, including name, relatives, and why they were tagged in the first place.

"Looks like we caught a HLF assassin" yelled one of the guards, back towards _**her.**_

"Oh,"_** she **_said, "In that case, I think he and I should get together for a little chat, after I'm done here, of course."

"Yes, Your Majesty" Chimed another one of the guards, before I was wrapped in unicorn magic and led away, off to the chariot landing.

I was put inside a decent coach, which the guards had acquired, and we took off. It would have been a comfortable experience, were I not trussed up with magic, and lain on the floor, while a unicorn watched over me.

For hours we flew, the guards occasionally swapping over duties. I was then led, blindfolded, through the castle of Canterlot, and into its dungeons. I was lead inside a room, and the blindfold was removed. The walls were stark grey, and a table and two chairs were set up in the middle. A large mirror was set in one side of the room. I checked myself out in the mirror, smiling at the thought of the unfortunate pony stuck behind what was obviously a two-way mirror.

A pony stared back at me. He had grey fur, a few shades darker than the grey of the walls. A yellow, short mane that was dishevelled and sticking up wildly adorned said ponies head, barely covering the short horn on his head. He turned parallel to the mirror, allowing me to glimpse his cutie-mark. A key with three barely noticeable co-centric grey rings extending out from the middle of the patch of skin, ending about where the key did. His tail was cropped short, and was the same yellow as his hair. He sighed and turned back from the mirror.

I approached the table in the middle of the room, and sat down facing the mirror, one fore-hoof supporting my face, while the other tapped at the table.

Not having anything to do, and not having had any rest for several nights, I simply laid my fore-hooves along the table, and fell asleep.

The table shifted slightly, as I was dragged from a fitful sleep. Not realising where I was I reached for my magic to slide my chair out.

'Must've fallen asleep at the desk again.' I wondered to myself.

Realising that I couldn't reach my magic, I opened my eyes to take stock of my surroundings. My cubicle had been replaced with a solid room, with a big mirror.

'That's nice.' I thought to myself, as my eyes wandered around the room.

They fell upon another pony, wearing what looked like a lab coat.

'That's funny.' I thought. 'I didn't ask to get moved to our lab section. '

"Looks like he's experiencing some of the side effects of the magic blocking, this'll take just a minute."

'Side effects of what now?' I thought, brain trying to churn through memories and information.

I felt a zap run through my right fore-hoof, and my brain kicked into overdrive, dozens of memories trying to force their way to the front.

I gasped as the realisation hit me. I had tried to, and then I had, so they.

I shuddered as I realised what kind of situation I was in. I had tried to assassinate the head of a country. A goddess made flesh.

Said goddess was now standing in front of me, a look of concern on her face.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" she asked.

"No" the pony in the lab coat replied. "Just a little shock from all the information coming through."

The princess perked up a little at this. "Okay then. So who was he?"

With a sudden jolt, I realised what was going on. I tried to cover up my tracking ring, even though I knew it was futile. I knew that the unicorn's magic would just slip through and over my attempts to hide it. As it did.

"His name is, well was, John McGraw. He was converted about two months ago. He was put under surveillance due to, hang on." The unicorn furrowed his brows in concentration. "I can't get into the reason, it's probably something high end, but I don't know, might just be a malfunction."

"That's okay Doctor. I'm going to spend some time with him, would you mind?"

"Of course not, your majesty" The doctor said, bowing deeply before retreating out the door.

After the Doctor left, Celestia's smile broke, and she let out a deep sigh.

She sat down opposite me, across the table, looking straight into my eyes. Or they would be, if I hadn't dropped my head to stare at the table.

This went on for several minutes, each side daring the other to make the first move. I Gulped nervously and stuttered out.

"H-hello, Cel- Cel- Celestia" I finally stuttered out.

"Hello John." She said back.

"How h- have you been?" I managed to stutter out again, cursing myself for the lack of courage that I felt. Instead I just felt tired, and afraid.

"Reasonably well, considering one of my best friends tried to shoot me." She said, a bitter, mocking tone coursing through her voice.

"Best friends?" I asked.

"Best friends!" I repeated, louder, my voice raising.

"You. Killed. Me!" I yelled, stabbing my hoof at her with every word, as if I could stab her with some sharp, pointy, metal thing.

Celestia was taken aback at this. "And yet you were the one with the gun."

It was my turn to be taken aback. I had gone out with every intention of killing her. Then I realised something.

"Where's my pistol?" I asked, in a small voice.

"It's been confiscated" She replied. "Locked up in some old dusty archive."

"Could- Could I get it back?" I asked, meeker still.

Celestia let out a chuckle at this. "Now why ever would you want it back? Thinking of taking another shot, eh?"

At this, I slumped down in my chair, utterly defeated.

Celestia's voice rang out again, now with a hint of sadness. "Why? John."

"Because you killed me." I stated simply.

"And how did I do that?" she asked, her head leaning in closer.

I laughed out loud at this. "How did you, oh lord."

"Look at me" I said, coming down from the sudden outburst. "I'm a pony"

"And?" Celestia asked.

"I was made into a pony." I said.

"So?"

"By force."

"What?" She asked.

"You should know, you gave the order yourself."

"WHAT!" She yelled.

"Or at least, that's what they told me when I was being pumped full of chems."

Celestia sat back down in her chair, having got out of it in the last outburst.

She tapped her chin with one gold-shod hoof and sighed.

"What happened to you John?" she asked "How did it happen?"

"I wouldn't know." I stated "I was knocked out when they did it."

"I meant the days before that." She said.

"I was in the Conversion Bureau."

"Before that."

"How much before?"

"A Day before you left."

I sighed in defeat. "Okay then, what do you want me to say?"

"Just tell me everything."

"Okay then" I Replied.

I turned around to the Security camera, and looked directly at it and stated simply.

"My name is John McGraw, and this is my story."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own MLP:FiM or any of the characters that belong to them, which is no-one in this chapter.

An incessant beeping filled the air. John turned over in his sleep and mashed the alarm clock, until he found the 'off' button. He yawned and stretched in bed, then rolled out and made his way to the small ensuite connected to his room. He undressed, and took a quick 5 minute shower, before towelling off, pulling on a fresh pair of pants, and moving over to the mirror to shave.

As he looked into the mirror, he came face-to-face with a man he barely recognized. He was thin, not gaunt, but getting close. Well-toned muscles made up his body, with a network of old scars and not-so-old closed wounds along his arms and bare chest. John lathered up his face, and dragged his razor lightly along it, removing the dark brown hair from his chin and upper lip.

After shaving, he exited the small bathroom, and pulled on a white shirt, before pulling a military jacket over it. The jacket was dirty, and from the various patches across it, had seen a lot of duty. It had no badges or tags on it, apart from a red, three-pointed heart on the right shoulder. He trudged over to the dresser, grabbing a pistol off the top of it. The pistol was an old one, a M1911 from WWII. Other models of the same gun, cannibalized to find parts for it, so much so that it was now a Frankenstein, much stronger and durable than the original design. John slid the pistol into a holster on his hip.

He then picked up a photo from the dresser, showing a young woman with dark blonde hair. He kissed it and set it back down. He walked out the door to his apartment, looking back in once, before closing the door, and heading down the stairs next to the entrance to his his room.

John reached the bottom floor, and immediately looked around for the chief engineer, Geoffrey. Every three days, Geoffrey would give John a report on how their colony was going. John spotted the middle-aged man, and made his way over. Geoffrey was talking to one of the engineers under him, 'David' John thought.

Geoffrey gave the David a reassuring pat on the back, who turned around and headed away.

As John approached Geoffrey, the man started making his way over.

"How is everything?" asked John.

"We're getting low on food," replied Geoffrey, falling into step with John. "And the generator for floors 3 to 5's broken some stuff. I'm running the others harder to cover up for it, so I reckon we got a week till everything gets worse."

"I'll talk to Rick, see where we can hit next." John said.

"I'll write a list of what I need to fix the generator." Geoffrey said. "But there's another thing."

"Oh?"

Geoffrey looked around the crowded lobby and motioned John further towards one of the corners.

"David. I just talked to him, and he wants to be converted."

"But the nearest conversion Bureau's a week away? Why does he want to go through the danger?"

"His wife died a week ago. He thinks conversion could have saved her. And it could have. That's the problem John. People know that opting out is better than what we have here. We lose good people that could be saved every week. We can't keep this up."

"I'm no leader Geoff. I just go and get food, that's it."

"But you are our leader. You brought all of these people together, many have you to thank for their lives. But by not letting them convert, you're killing them."

"We're the last humans left Geoff, the last good humans. I don't want us to die out with just those HLF bastards left, we're better than that." John growled.

"Then prove it. Guide them again, not everyone will, but those that'll be a problem will. You're hitting two birds with one stone. You know we won't be able to keep going forever, even your wife saw..."

"Don't bring my wife into this!" John said coldly.

"Relax John. Just go on a run, and think it over. That's all I'm asking you to do."

John nodded, deep in thought, and turned around to try and find Rick, the man in charge of their maps and scouting. He would give John a location, a couple square miles, which John and his men would scour for supplies. Some days would bring in enough food to last a week, others, just another conflict with other survivors or the Human Liberation Front.

John wandered around the lobby of the Plaza Hotel. It was the centre of the fort that John and his men had constructed, and it now housed about 1,000 people that had chosen to stay human, rather than turn pony. John checked his PAD, and noted the time, 9:30, trying to figure out where Rick could be at this time.

The PAD (personal assistance device) was a relatively new invention. They had been in development for military use when John was just a little kid, but went civilian a few years after their introduction. They were very similar to Pip-boys from the Fallout series of games that John's Father had played with him when he was a kid. They were basically a 'smart phone' mounted around a person's wrist. Many had basic functions such as calendars, watches and the ability to call anyone. Military grade ones, like John's had more functions suited to combat. His included a Two-way radio, a compartment for small blades, as well as the ability to inject adrenaline into John's wrist. John only had one more of the practically life saving stuff. There were also more specialised ones, some carried morphine as well as adrenaline, and could be used to quickly perform basic medical diagnostics. Some were made for secret agents and stuff, including a USB cable and a small set of explosives, as well as a lock picking kit. Some of them could even cloak a user, although John doubted such advances had been invented. It could also connect to the Internet, but, as with phones, electricity and water, the companies had shut down, killing access to basic amenities.

Surviving had become a full-time job.

John had started with a simple vision, a safe haven for those who had not chosen a side. He had started with his small squad of men, gathering them up. He had contacted old friends, finding most had chosen a side. John then gathered everyone he could, and led them here, to the Plaza Hotel. He had turned it into a fort, blocking off road access inside the surrounding buildings, then slowly, searching the nearby areas for other survivors. In this, John had been lucky. Many skilled people lived in the area, so many so, that within a month, he had a fully functioning town. About a hundred survivors resided in 'The Bulwark' as people had taken to calling it. Within those, John had found military men like himself, a handful of medical trainees, and several engineers. He had wasted no time in getting everything set up.

John rounded the corner, and went through the door leading to the stairs. The elevators had had the power cut, to conserve electricity. John headed up the stairs, through to the un-powered section of the hotel. He found Rick at the top, on his balcony, gazing over the top, with various maps on the table beside him, being weighed down by a laptop. A sniper rifle leaned against the fence enclosing the balcony.

John approached Rick from behind, drawing his pistol, and pointed it towards Ricks head. He kept on walking, closer and closer, trying to not make any sound. John held the gun about a centimetre away from Ricks head and said.

"Gotcha!"

Rick started clapping, and turned around. As he moved towards John, John moved backwards, keeping a safe distance between him and Rick. He knew that the man was fast, and could easily jerk the gun out of his hands and over, into the ant-sized city below.

Rick kept advancing on John, still smiling, his hands forming an L shape next to his body. Suddenly, John felt something poke the back of his neck. He froze. Whatever it was, it stayed there. Rick turned around, keeping Rick in the corner of his eye, but dropped the gun to his side when he saw what had been poking him in the back of the head. John stared down the barrel of the rifle, as if he could wish it away.

"Pressure plate or tripwire?" asked John.

"Hand activated actually. You would have noticed either." Replied Rick.

Rick and John would constantly have these games, John trying to get Rick before he could net John in one of his home-made traps. They were both getting better, but John had yet to 'kill' Rick before he had his head blown off or received a deadly voltage, or, most creatively, been tripped up by squashed cake, then suffocated with a party balloon.

John shook his head.

"Anyways, we need another place to hit." John said.

"Gimme a sec." Replied Rick gruffly, moving over to the laptop on the table. He typed for several seconds, then pulled a few of the pieces of paper out from underneath the laptop out. He shuffled into his room, John on his heels.

He walked over to a large that had been pinned to a large table, and pulled out a few pencils and highlighters. He looked at his maps a few more times, typed a few more commands into the laptop, then turned and faced Rick.

"I got a place, we think it has a decent amount of food, and it should have those parts." Rick said.

"What parts?" John asked, coyly.

"The ones for the generator." Rick said, one eyebrow raised.

"I have no idea..." John started

"Just let me get this over with." Rick said, interrupting.

"Fine."

"Anyways, we saw a couple of Human Liberation Front guys in there a few weeks ago. They weren't packing much, so my guess is a scouting party. They would've left by now, but see if they left anything. A piece of junk to you is a piece of junk I can turn into a nuke, so just bring back anything they left. Unless you are ABSOLUTELY sure it has ABSOLUTELY no value whatsoever."

"Gotcha"

"Pass us your PAD."

John took of the leather glove encircling his PAD, and pulled out the touch pad. He passed it to Rick, who took it, and plugged it into his laptop. He stepped back from the laptop, and looked at John.

"So... what's the happy-haps?" asked Rick.

"The usual. Eating, sleeping, shootin' at stuff."

"Daily grind in our empty world. I meant with the ponies."

"I haven't heard anything from them."

"What about the people who want the conversion? What are you gonna do about them?"

John laughed. "You know about that?"

"Of course I do, I don't live up here for the loneliness."

John sighed. "I dunno. I don't want to seem like some kind of tyrant, but, what are they gonna do? Just up and quit on the human race?"

"We've had no chance for decades now, what difference do a few people make?"

"You've been there, you know what it's like, and we can't _be _that. Humans have survived everything, including us. This is just a phase, we'll be back."

"And then what? We'll just screw up again. We screwed up the earth too much, it's not like we can just escape it and travel to the moon."

"I know, it's just... we can't let the last humans left be those HLF bastards, we're better than that, she has to see that." John said angrily.

"She has, that's why she offered us a way out. Humans will live on, but not as humans."

The laptop beeped, and Rick turned away, pulling the Pad out of his laptop. He handed it to John, who took it with a nod. He headed for the door. As he pulled it open, he heard Rick say from behind him.

"Humans adapt John, it's what we do. But sometimes, we can't do it on our own."

**A/N: Wow, that took a while. Anyways, sorry for the however many weeks in between my last update and this. I was doing stuff, like cleaning out caves. Hopefully the next update won't take too long, but I've got a story that I already started, plus another one that I have to sketch up, so it may be a couple a weeks. So, yea, hang on. Next chapter will be action and some diplomacy with ponies. **

**Please Rate & Review, PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! Or send me a tell. But review if you can.**

**(also, sorry to RickR for stealing his name, but I'm bad with them, and I couldn't think of anyone else to be all mechanic. If someone has a problem with it, or Rick does, just send us a tell, and I'll get more creative. Also, if you are reading this Rick, Keep writing, your story is awesome!)**


	3. Chapter 3

"I have a question." Celestia cut in.

I sighed. "Go ahead."

"You say that there were 100 people, and then later you switched to 1000?"

"Hmm." I thought about this for some time before replying. "Well, there were 100 living in Star Hotel directly, all the people important to the running of it, engineers and most of the military guys. But there were other, smaller communities outside the walls, refugee families we had taken in."

"Like Canterlot Castle and City?" Celestia Inquired.

"Sounds like an apt description."

Celestia hmm'd, then spoke up again. "So, if Rick was so good with mechanics, why wasn't he with the others, helping the generators?"

"Well," I started. "He was good at making stuff out of junk. I think he once claimed to make a working bear trap out of stuff you'd find in a bathroom. Tooth brushes, flossing string, y'know."

"But" I continued. "If you told him to fix a generator, he'd just stare at it for a minute, then ask if he could pull it apart to make

a tank. We needed him more for his military knowledge. He was stationed around Star Hotel during the collapse."

"The collapse?" Inquired Celestia.

"Sure. If you remove people from human society, especially the ones who already have 'good' jobs, then eventually, the more questionable people get stronger and ballsy. Rioting, theft, it all got so bad, the military got pulled in. Then, we were just told to leave. No warning, just a 'You've done well, bye now.' It's why I was close, and why so many of the people at Star were military."

"Ok then." Celestia said. "But what about when you called me?"

"You want this chronologically, or wherever you want it to start?" I grumbled, angrily.

Celestia sighed, a smile on her lips.

"Thank you" I said.

_\!/_

"Is this it?" John asked, checking his PAD.

"Looks like it." Replied a gruff, short man who was driving the car.

They were looking at a few buildings surrounding a plaza, or, they thought they did. The largest building had it's back to them.

"Alright then lads," John said, turning on the radio as he did. "We need to clear the area. We're looking for the usual, food, water, petrol and Ricks junk. We also need..." John looked over the list of mechanical parts for the generator. "Well, If you find anything mechanic-y just bring it back."

"Let's get in and get out."

_\!/_

This was definitely not getting in and out.

John and his men were pinned down under heavy machine gun fire. They were on the corner of a building, a few metres between them and the next building. Metres that were being sprayed by bullets, which would definitely hurt, should someone be as lucky as to get hit.

The HLF hadn't left, and John was reasonably sure they hadn't been here on a scouting mission.

"What do we do?" Yelled one of John's team members over the heavy sound of gunfire.

John thought for a second, then pointed at one of his members.

John mimed out actions as the young man watched. The man gripped his gun tighter as John went on, and when he was seemingly finished, nodded.

John held up a finger, the used it to pull the pin out of a grenade.

He held up a second finger, and tossed the grenade around the corner.

He held up a third, and the machine gun fire stopped as the gunners presumably ducked for cover.

With this, the young man lept round the corner, his finger squeezing the life out of the trigger on the gun. The light machine gun in his hand exploded into a orchestra comprised of gunpowder exploding and bullets richocheting.

John pulled his arm down towards the other building yelling out. "GO!"

The rest of his team ran around the young man, some taking potshots at the now hiding machine gunners, others tossing grenades they had readied. John went around the corner and slapped the top of the young man's gun lightly. He then sprinted towards the sandbags the machine gunners were hiding behind, flicking the safety off his gun. Grenades exploded seconds before he got there, and before the HLF could recover, he lept on top of them, as time, for John, slowed. and he took careful aim with his gun.

Within seconds, the clip was empty, and the HLF were dead.

John reloaded, then turned and jogged back towards his men. The young man, his first time in a fight, just stood there gawking at the apparent inhuman speed that John possessed, mixed with the adrenaline of being shot at and shooting at another human being. He keeled over, vomiting the remains of his small breakfast. Some of John's team gave him congratulatory and/or reassuring slaps on the back, while others moved past John to haul the bodies back to the van that they had brought with them.

John turned around and saw the heavy encampments they had just torn through, and the courtyard full of technical equipment, guns, military rations, and ammunition beyond that.

"Scouting mission my ass."

_\!/_

The rest of the scavenge went quickly. The men John had hand-trained were suited to urban combat, and were well rehearsed with the hows on clearing enemies out of a building. All-in-all, it took them about three hours to scour the entire place. John had a quick scan over what they had collected.

"About three weeks food. Good work guys." The soldiers beamed at this.

"Parts that we need?" John asked, turning one of the soldiers.

"We're still missing a few parts." Said one of them. "But they're just small parts that we can probably find in the depot. Besides that, we have a bunch of stuff that'll help with other things that need upgradin'.

"As well as..." John's eyes glanced over the rest of the stuff. "Guns and... that, other stuff Rick wanted."

"Well, anyways. Let's get this loaded up and shipped back to home!" John yelled, moving back into his sergeant voice.

_\!/_

The trip home was, boring, to be honest. After having you adrenaline going for so long, just sitting there seems drab and dull in comparison to the rush of risking your life, man after man, room after room. Every man killed, one more man, losing the fight.

They got out about a mile from the Hotel, and spent an hour unloading and burying bodies. The young man that had stepped up to fire at the machine gunners was exempt. Everyone agreed that he'd had enough for the day. Burying bodies was a hard experience. It's easy enough to shoot someone, but looking at their face, wondering what they did before it all...

That was the definition of hell. Not the fight, thinking about it later.

_\!/_

They had stopped again, a few of the men wanted to stretch their legs, get rid of the cramped feeling. The young recruit stood by John, watching as the men moved around the trucks and cars, swapping jokes and cigarettes.

"Sir..." The young recruit said.

"No reason to be formal" Said John, still keeping an eye out. "You only need to call me that when we're fighting."

"Well, um..." the young man said, glancing up at the grizzled, statuesque man next to him.

"What's your name?" asked John.

"Daniel sir." The recruit replied, his voice unsteady.

"Well Daniel," John turned to face him. "My name's John, so you can stop with the sir stuff."

"Well, John. I was just wondering, why you didn't... you know, convert."

John sighed. "Why should I have?"

"I'm not saying that you should have, but, why didn't you?"

"Well, why didn't you?"

"I wanted to finish up my studies."

John let out a laugh. "You stayed behind, to go to school?"

"Yea..." Daniel said. "But it was kinda hard when the professors all left."

John laughed even harder at this, drawing the attention of some of the other men. Daniel let a smile grace his lips for a second.

"What did you study?" John asked, after he had gotten over his laughing fit.

"Psychology. Top of my class too."

"Well, Doctor, why don't you tell me why I didn't convert?"

"Change." Replied Daniel. "No-one likes change, but I think you like it even less."

"How'd you know?"

"You carry a gun made in the twentieth century, you haven't changed your hairstyle once since I got here, you have the same breakfast and dinner every day, and you didn't get converted."

"Well now," John said. "That doesn't mean I hate change, and I haven't changed my hairstyle caus' I like the style, and 'cmon, toast and baked beans is the best breakfast ever. And Pineapple's the only sweet thing we have left."

"You still didn't get converted."

"Daniel."

"Yea?"

"You're smart, you're talented, so why are you wasting your time not being a pony? I wasn't cut out to be one, I just shoot things. You change stuff, get rid of all the fucked up shit that happens to people. All I do is create that shit."

"John, you've managed to pull together people in a wasteland. People are alive because of you. People are working together in a world where everything went to shit. All 'caus of you."

John was silent at this, before smiling.

"You know, you remind me of my father. He was a psychologist too, one of the first to convert as well. My brother went with him. I have no family left, did you know? No-one that I can relate to." His smile dropped.

Daniel replied calmly. "Everyone lost someone, but we can adapt John. We'll get through this."

Daniel started towards the other men, leaving John behind.

_\!/_

The convoy was spotted about a kilometre out, and the men Jon had left on duty started move the heavy barricades that had been placed around the Plaza. They nodded at John, and he in return. Some smiled, others saw more, and were worried.

The convoy trawled through the roads, the buildings on either side filled with families enjoying canned food, and each other's presence. The convoy rolled through the main gateway, and they slowed to a stop.

John left the cabin, and started moving towards Star Hotel. He glanced over his shoulder, and yelled back.

"Steven!"

"Yea?" came a shouted reply.

"Sort all this, will ya?"

"Sure Sir!"

John continued on his trek towards the Hotel, a somber sight for anyone looking. Head down and hands in pockets, he entered the lobby, and started up the stairs to his room.

_\!/_

It had been hours. John simply sat the desk, staring into the monitor.

He had made up his mind.

"She's probably not even awake at this hour." It was mid-afternoon, and John doubted that she needed sleep anyway.

"They're all gone anyway." He wouldn't know till he tried.

"She'll think I'm bat-shit." Um, hello. Magic. Goddess. Supposed mover of the Sun.

"I don't wanna..."

His excuses exhausted, John pulled his forearm towards his face.

"Geoff?"

A crackling voice replied through his PAD, "Yea?"

"Do the satellites still link up with Canterlot?"

"They, um, haven't been moved John. Why?"

"I'm going to fire up the link."

"Sure thing John."

"Out."

"John?"

"Yea?"

"Thanks."

The radio cut off and a deafening silence filled the room. John hit the 'on' button, and the monitor in front of him blinked into life.

Seconds drained, flowing faster than imaginable (or at least they appeared that way to John). A blank, cyan blue screen appeared. John pressed a button on his PAD, and a window popped up. He tapped some more buttons and the window disappeared, replaced with a button. John pressed on his PAD, and an ominous ringing sound resounded throughout his small room.

Another few seconds passed and the ringing stopped. The screen showed a small, rotating hourglass, before it came up with live video, of somepony who definitely wasn't Celestia.

"Oh it Worked!" said the pony on the other side of the monitor, A deep blue alicorn.

_\!/_

"Um, Hello?" said John, definitely not expecting this turn of events.

"Oh, who're you!" replied the Alicorn, a massive smile plastered on her face. (John was reasonably sure that Equestria only had Princesses)

John shook his head several times, and snapped back into action. "John McGraw, at your service Milady."

"Oh, a gentleman, how chivalrous!" The Alicorn swooned in front of the camera mounted to Celestia's Terminal.

"Just being polite ma'am." John said, blushing slightly.

"And humble too!" The Alicorn said. "You know, I could get a chariot out to you within a day. We could spend some time together, get to know each other better."

'What?' Thought John, the blush deepening. "Well, um. I'm actually married."

"Oh, I see how it is." The Alicorn said, winking and giggling. "You kinky bastard. I like that."

'O.k. then.' Thought John.

"Oh but I haven't introduced myself! How unthoughtful! I am Princess Luna. Though you can just call me Luna."

"I guessed."

"And what can I do for you, John."

"Well, I was, um... could you stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Licking your hoof like that."

"Enjoying it too much?"

John gulped. "Could I speak to Celestia, please?"

"Oh." Luna rolled her eyes. "You're one of those people. What, you don't want to talk to me?"

"No, it's just, I called for her, and you answered."

Luna tapped her hoof on the, whatever was under the monitor. "You people have no flexibility, no fun."

John was getting impatient. "I just want to talk to Celestia for a bit. And why did you answer? I thought this was her private terminal."

"I... Um... Crap."

John sighed. "I don't care, just go get Celestia."

"Ok then!" Luna said, smiling and walking away, perhaps swaying her hips a little more than necessary. John didn't know, he hadn't stared at a pony's flank before.

John collapsed into the chair set up with the desk and sighed, waiting for Luna to get back with Celestia.

_\!/_

John heard the clopping of hooves along the hallway. He stood up again, snapping a neat salute when the doors were pushed open.

In trotted Celestia. Coat white as snow, check. Gaudy gold jewellery, check. Pastel hair on acid, check.

She smiled as she sat down in front of the monitor, as John moved into a more relaxed position, at ease.

"Hello again John."

"Celestia."

"May I ask why you called?"

"Well, um... I, have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Well, some people in my, the colony have started to, uh, question our beliefs."

"Uh-huh."

"So, just so you know... this isn't for me."

"What is it John?"

"Well. I was wondering if what they say is true. About the underground Conversion Bureaus, ones that are still operating."

"Yes, there are a few. Why?"

"Well, there are some in the colony who want to convert, but there are no Conversion Bureaus left, at least, none I know of. If I knew where these underground Bureaus were, we could send them there."

Celestia smiled. "Give me a minute." John nodded, and watched as Celestia moved offscreen. The shuffling of papers sounded through the speakers, and Celestia reappeared, several notes floating next to her.

"Ok then, I believe there is still one operating at..." She checked the papers. "Gravel Bay."

Gravel Bay was a day south by car, an easy weeks worth of walking. It was a small, seaside community, and was one of the first places ponies landed. It was a ghost town now, or so John had heard, and assumed. Just like the rest of the world.

"Ok" said John. "Tell the guys there to get ready. We'll head out the day after tomorrow, get there a week after that. If anything changes, I'll give you a call."

With that, John gave another salute, Celestia mimicking with her hoof. John walked forward to turn off the computer.

"John?" Celestia's voice rang out through the speakers.

"Yes?"

John was very close to the monitor, he could easily see the massive smile Celestia cracked.

"Thank you."

A/N

Well, this took awhile. This story has been floating around chapter two for a good month. Why? Because Luna is hard to write, when your trying to be flirty, but not go overboard. That and Exams, as well as a week long hike in the middle of no-where has led to me not getting that much time. Furthermore, I have another two fics in my imagination raring to go. Both with Humans :P. Anyway, hopefully I'll be able to get up the next chapter reasonably soon, before even bigger, harder exams come my way. Expect the next chapter about a week away.

You may also have noticed Celestia asking questions at the beginning. These are basically going to be clearing, thingies, in case I think something should be straigtened out. If you have any questions that you want answered within the context of the story, feel free to leave them with a comment, or private message.

I've basically converted to , so the chapters will be up there first, then FanFiction and my DA about a day later, depending on when i get it up.

Anything else? No, I don't think so. R&R, be honest, Critiques is always welcome, and don't go too hard on me for the Lunaughty.

Thats all for now! (I think... I mean, if thats okay)

TMR


	4. Chapter 4

John looked over the amassed crowd. He had gathered almost everyone in and around his 'city' into this courtyard. His engineers had set up a microphone and speakers so everyone could hear him. They had all shuffled in, wondering what could be so important as to collect the entire population for one announcement. Some guessed, some knew. But no-one would know how this day would affect their lives forever.

Everyone was here now, and John could begin.

"Good afternoon everyone. As some of you may have heard, there are underground Conversion Bureaus still in operation. I have come to tell you that this is true."

John paused as cheers and cries went up.

"However, the nearest one is in Gravel Bay, a weeks walk south."

The cheering stopped dead.

"I know that it's been shit for those here, and we have it better than most. I'm not a dictator, so you're free to try your hand at getting down there anytime."

John paused to take a breath. "I'm also not heartless, so once every two months, myself and an armed escort will be going down there and back. Anyone who wishes to tag along is welcome."

"We may also be able to convince them to open up one closer, but don't count on it." John continued.

"We head out tomorrow, anyone wishing to come with us can head over to the armoury, 8am tomorrow."

"Thank you, and please be sure of the choice that you make."

A cheer went up as John left the podium. He received many pats on the back and handshakes as he moved through the crowd, not registering a single one, his mind already far too deep in thought.

_\!/_

"You did a good thing there John."

"Then why do I feel this isn't going to turn out well?"

John turned to the small brown dog laying on the bed next to him. Roxie had been a childhood pet of his. She had been the first time John had experienced death, and she had come to represent... something to him. John didn't really know, except that she was always willing to lend an ear.

"Like the kid said, what was his name. The psychologist one. You're afraid of change. I mean, you're talking to a childhood pet who's been dead for twenty years."

"True that," said John, as Roxie's soothing voice disappeared, and was replaced by a static voice coming through his PAD.

"John?"

Jon sighed, and pressed the activator on his two-way radio.

"Yep?"

"Everyone'll be here in ten minutes, just a reminder."

"Cheers."

_\!/_

John looked over the people standing outside the armoury. There were about 30 in all. Only a few from Plaza Hotel itself. Inside, John was relieved. They wouldn't be losing too many, although he was still... Disappointed? John didn't have a word to describe the bubbling cauldron of emotions going through him at the moment. From anger to confusion to guilt, it seemed like every emotion available to man was tumbling through his head.

"Alright then. As you know, Gravel Bay is a week away. The scavenge teams need all the cars we have to work, so we'll be hoofing it."

"We don't know what's down that way, so we need to be prepared for anything. Everyone will have to carry a weeks worth of food, as well as a firearm, whatever valuables you're bringing, and clothes. Ponies are naked most if the time, so dint bother bringing your favourite sweater. You should be carrying about twenty percent of your body weight. If you want to bring more, convince someone else to cart your junk. Keep in between the military guys, and if you're told to do something, do it. Any questions?"

No-one raised their hands.

"Good."

The next thirty minutes were spent handing out rations, water and guns. Then everyone was given another thirty minutes to pack what they hadn't already.

John went over the trained men. He had taken nine in all. He and three others would keep watch to the front, with two at the back and on each side. They would walk each day, taking stops every hour. At the end of the night, they would seek shelter in the nearest safe building, then continue on the next day. Simple, and with plenty of room for improvisation.

The time went quickly, John's men checking their weapons, food and packs. John went over the map with Rick, tracing the path again and again, cementing it in his mind.

They would travel south along a highway for four days, then move onto main roads for the three days. In the middle of the last day, they would reach the Conversion Bureau. John had heard that it took a week to get settled in, so he and his men would stay there for two, maybe three days. After that, they would head back the opposite way, and do the same thing after two months.

While there, John would be able to find out more about the Conversion. As well as finding out whether they would be able to set up shop closer to home. This trip was one of discovery; a voyage into the unknown, to change the known world.

"Alright then, Let's head out!"

_\!/_

John's team had been walking for three days non-stop. The plan so far was working, and nothing had gone wrong. But then again, nothing ever really goes to plan.

John squinted through the midday sunlight. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and there hadn't been for some time. Some people had guzzled all their water in the first few days, and it was pure luck that houses in the area still had water in their tanks. Though that certainly wouldn't continue in the future.

'Yet another thing we need.' though John. Over the last few days he had collected a reasonably large list of ways to improve the hotel and the town beyond. The continuous drudge; one foot in front of another gave John plenty of time to think. Thinking about the town he had created kept his mind off of other, more unpleasant matters.

Like what those black dots on the horizon were.

John's brain instantly went into overdrive, as he yelled out to the people around him.

"Something's on the horizon!"

All was quiet. The group of people standing still, stunned. John looked around quickly, taking note of a nearby gas station.

"Quick! Everybody head for the gas station!"

The group moved towards the gas station. There were cars left abandoned out front, and the store was devoid of anything. The collection of men, women and children moved into the main building, crouching behind aisles, tables, and whatever else they could use to shield the view of them. Everyone was silent.

Static burst through John's PAD, before a voice rung out.

"Yo! You the guys heading for Gravel Bay? We're your escort."

A sigh of relief washed through the crowd, before John waved downwards.

"Anyone got a pair of Binoculars?" He asked, turning around to face the crowd.

A pair was passed forward through the crowd, and John walked into the front of the store, placing the binoculars against his eyes.

The dots on the Horizon had gotten closer in the minute that had gone by since John had seen them. Through the binoculars, John could make out that... wait. What the hell were those?

John pulled the binoculars down from his eyes, blinked several times, then brought them up again.

What the hell were Griffons doing here?

_\!/_

The strange creatures landed on the road outside the gas station. There were four in all. All wearing vests and carrying guns. The one at the front was smaller than the other two flanking it, and had a purple tint to the end of her, hair-feathers. John assumed it was the leader. The one to it's left was the largest, and was wearing a ridiculous amount of metal. He also had a PAD on the end of one fore-leg. The one to the lead's right was wearing goggles, carried only a pistol, and also had a PAD on one leg. The last Griffon was behind the one with goggles, and was the smallest of them all, though it carried by far the biggest gun.

The leader stepped forward, and spoke in a boy-ish, but obviously girl voice.

"'Sup? This is Lead Wing." She pointed at the griffon covered in metal. "Oz." She pointed to the Griffon at the back with the massive gun. "Sparks." She pointed to the griffon wearing goggles.

"And I'm Gilda. We're your escort."

A/N. Hey Look! Three weeks work and a half sized chapter! To be brutally honest though, I love the cliffhanger. The next chapter aka the rest of this one should be out sometime this week. I've started work on it, but though I might get whatever scraps I had out to y'all. I'm getting the ball rolling again, and in a few weeks (End of November) I'll have an entire week off everything just to write. I'm almost certain that, if I haven't finished by then, this story will be completed, and I'll move onto my next tale. To be honest, this story was sort of a warm-up, and I definitely didn't expect it to get so many views, comments and ratings. (I expected a one-star, at most 1.5) So thank you to all my readers, commenters, trackers and the two fave-ers. On a related note, I have no idea why it's not five-stars, because I am extremely flawed. I need critique people!

Whelp, this is me!

TMR


	5. Chapter 5

John had a plan. He felt much better with a plan.

It was simple really. Avoid conflict as much as possible. The HLF wasn't _evil_ as such, but they were a threat to the people that he was looking after. Let alone one of the premier Gryphon squads, who John wasn't on a particularly good relationship with. Allowing them to come to harm probably wasn't going to smooth over relationships with Celestia and Luna.

The plan was simple. Scout, map, avoid. Easy enough, although the fact that they had no clue where the HLF actually were was not helping. They had a rough estimate of where the HLF were, but they weren't too sure. They could have already passed the detachment, if not for the fact that the HLF had seen the gryphons flying overhead. The gryphons who had been walking, if it was called that, back the way they came for the past day.

John walked back into the group of humans, finding the piece of debris again, raising himself up over the crowd. What little murmering there was died off into silence. All eyes turned to John.

"Alright... We've decided upon a course of action. We will split into two teams. All of you will stay here, under the first team. The gryphons, the other team and I will scout ahead and search for the HLF. When we find them, we'll find a way around. We'll come back, and lead you guys through there. After that, we should be straight on to the Conversion Bureau, and all this'll be over. Thank you for staying calm."

John hopped down from the temporary dias, moving through the crowd towards his men.

"Alright." He said when he reached them. "You guys," He pointed at the left half of the men. "Stay here and make sure nothing happens. You," He swept his arm to the right, "Will follow me and the Gryphons."

The first group of men that John had indicated simply nodded and moved back into the crowd, though much more wary then before. The others moved with more purpose. They dispersed, moving out towards where all the packs had been left. They grabbed their own, then moved around the building. They grabbed what they had been eating, gobbling it up as they returned to John, who had simply grabbed his own hiking pack. He hadn't unpacked yet, wanting to see to some of the people that were under his protection. He had learnt through experience seeming cold and distant was not a very good way to lead.

The men fell in behind John as he strode out of the building, slinging his pack as he passed back into the daylight. As his eyes readjusted, he looked back over his shoulder. Past the men, at the Gryphons. They were all following behind the soldiers, carrying their own weapons, as well as a pair of what could be called saddlebags. They were modified to clasp underneath as well as over, holding onto the wearer's hips. Sort of like a satchel, but positioned to be much more comfortable to wear as a quadruped .

The building their group was lunching in got smaller and smaller, before John turned around, motioning for the group to form a circle. His men shuffled into position, splitting in half to have an even number of men on each side of him. The circle widened a little, creating a gap for the gryphons as they too moved in.

"Alright," John started. "As said before, we have no idea where they are, or what they're doing. So we need to find them, without them finding us. If we find them, we mark where they are. Maybe watch them a couple of days to see if they're patrolling or not. We'll figure it out should we find them. If they find us, we run like hell. We don't bring them back here. We try to lose them. If not, we'll send runners back while the rest hold them off. At least we'll have a chance of still getting the civvies through that way."

The humans nodded slightly, casting slightly nervous glances around. But they had to do it. The gryphons were more casual. Gilda nodded slightly, and that seemed to be the voice of the entire squad. Lead Wing made no movement that John could see. Oz shifted her rifle, rolling her shoulders. Sparks seemed to be mostly absorbed in his PAD, but John was sure he had picked up on the plan.

_\!/_

They all walked for several hours, the small party trudging along beside the main roads, trying to keep out of sight of anyone who would be watching for them. The gryphons occasionally sending a pair of themselves ahead to silently search for signs of any other humans. Most times they came back with nothing new, occasionally with word of another civilian group, but not once with word of the HLF.

So they kept on walking, the asphalt burning from weeks of disuse, buildings not yet decayed but empty, lifeless nonetheless. Back at the Hotel, there was none of that feeling. Some buildings weren't in use, but overall it had a much cheerier coat. It had been a home for people who had no home to go back to. And being away for the short amount of time he had been, John was getting homesick.

Strange, that he should long for a place that had once just been a rock to cling to, a place to bunker down and hope, dream of a time where things would be better. Where every day wasn't a struggle to keep everything working, to hold on just a little longer against sickness, decay, malfunction and the silence that hung across the world. The world was changing, with the ponies, the gryphons, the other magical races that had turned up with the solution to humanities problems.

The question was, did humanity have a place in this new world?

John's thinking, deep out of sheer boredom, dropped off suddenly as he was tapped on the shoulder.

He turned, looking down at the gryphon who had just put their claw back on the ground. Oz, it was, if John remembered correctly. He looked at her expectantly, obviously she had a message.

"We found 'em."

By this time, the other soldiers had crowded around. John noticed the other three gryphons, behind Oz. He nodded at them, before looking around. Spotting a small shop nearby, he directed everyone towards it.

The shop had been looted long ago, the windows smashed in and the door hung agape. Though it was doubtful the owner would mind very much. The party gathered inside, forming a rough circle before Sparks walked forward slightly. Everyone's eyes turned to him and he gulped, before starting to speak.

'One of these things, nervous?' John thought, before he mentally slapped himself, returning his attention to the small gryphon speaking.

"We've found where the HLF have set up. I-it's not too far from here, just by the road. Th- they're staying quiet, it was only by luck we caught one taking a p-" The Gryphon halted, blushing slightly.

Several chuckles ran through the group, not helping Sparks' embarrassment. "Everyone quiet up." John muttered, spinning around to give everyone a 'shut up and let him speak' look, before turning back to Sparks and nodding for him to continue.

Sparks nodded back, beginning again. "Well, it's a small apartment building. Lots of windows and balconies, plenty of points for them to spot us coming, though they're watching the ground, not the skies. It looks like they've got a lot of fire-power, judging by what we could spot scattered around."

John nodded, taking in what Sparks had said. "Well, what are we doing to get around them?"

"Getting around would be hard." Oz said, speaking up. "Especially with a group as large as yours. They could also have scouts and the like out. Hell, we could've been spotted by a scout while we were casing the place, and for all we know, they're marching here right now."

John rubbed at his mouth with the back of a hand, thinking, dropping his hand and turning his options over and over in his head. "Could you carry everyone over?" He asked, looking to Gilda.

Gilda simply shrugged, her shoulders looking half-comical as she did. "We could, but it'd take forever. Plus, one of 'em sees us..." She lifted a talon up, making a small pistol with it and miming firing it. "Blam, one less Gryphon, one less Human."

"So what, go through them then?" John asked, rubbing his hands together. "We have no idea how many there are, what they have..." He looked around at the group. "Is there no other way around? Now that we know where they are, we can go back and around." He said, grinning slightly.

Gilda simply shook her head. "Everything around's been blocked off or collapsed. We can try sneaking by at night, but that's the best we can do short of popping everyone in there."

John sighed, mulling his choices over. He didn't trust the grypons, at least, not entirely. But he didn't have much of a choice. Going around wasn't an option, they'd have to clear the place.

Sparks cut through the small silence. "We could always blow their base up, and get uh, everyone past when it's um, done." He offered, looking between the two distinct groups.

Silence reigned again, as everyone thought. "We don't have any explosives." One person brought up.

Lead Wing, who John hadn't heard talk once, simply opened on of his bags. It hid the ground with a dull thud, some white material in plastic hitting the tiled floor of the shop. "C4." The Gryphon said, his voice deep and booming. Certainly matched his shining attire.

"Well, how the hell do we get it in there?" Another voice piped up. No-one really questioned why a mystical talking creature was carrying around C4, but everyone had seen weirder things in their time.

"We'll fly it in." Gilda stated, as if it was as obvious as Lead Wing. "We blow it, while you're getting everyone past. You hit anyone outside, and get everyone else up."

More silence prevailed. John was... well, it was a solid plan, and the best they had. Besides shooting the place up. "We'll do it." He said, looking over the men. "Just make sure it's a big enough boom."

_\!/_

Hours passed. The soldiers headed back, while the Gryphon's stayed behind. John caught a glimpse of maps being handed out through the Gryphons, before they left the small shop and trudged home. It was dark when they came back to the store, the moon shining overhead. Fuller then John would have liked, but better then... well, nothing would have been better, but nonetheless. The Gryphons had donned a dark blue-grey, tight full-body suits. Their size was the only thing that stood them apart, besides their PADs. They all looked at John, most of them turning back while Gilda moved up to him.

"We'll keep in touch. Might be best you start walking now, 'cuz we'll be there and back in no time." She said. "Gravel Bay's not too far. Should get there by morning if you can handle the pace."

John wasn't sure. They were well-fed enough, but no-one besides the soldiers were hikers. Still, the further they got from the HLF, the better. John nodded.

"Alright, let's go."

He headed back out to everyone outside, the Gryphons following behind and quickly taking flight. How their rather large bodies managed it, he wouldn't know, but they soared off down the road. The group of humans followed after them. Exhausted from the journey, but hopeful. Their journey had almost come to an end. All the fighting, the wars, it was all over soon. It was something John wanted, but he couldn't. Not while people depended on him.

The large hotel the Gryphons had described came into view, some time later. It didn't stand out particularly, the windows were darkened and dirty with months of neglect. If it hadn't been pointed out, John would have never guessed that anyone resided there currently. Of course, it was a smart place to set up. It gave a good view of the surrounding area, and you could easily hide plenty of men and equipment inside, away from the windows. If it wasn't too badly damaged, maybe they could set up an outpost here later on, much closer to the Conversion Bureau.

John's thoughts came to a crashing halt as a voice crackled through the radio.

"Blowing in Three, Two, One-"

The night lit up, impossibly bright. The air glazed, froze over, and then broke as wave after wave of deafening noise pounded against his ears. The Hotel was ablaze, groaning and shrieking barely registering over the sound of the explosion. Where the hell had they been carrying all that?

Several figures shot out of the building, near the top. They would have been invisible, but the glow from the hotel lit up the background so that they stood against it. The figures dived, heading for John's group. He should be steady, but his hands shook a little, gripping his rifle. By God that was loud.

The Gryphons landed in front of him, Gilda at the head, with Oz and Lead Wing behind. John frowned.

"Where's the last one?" He asked. Another voice crackled through the radios present.

"Uh, g-guys? I'm uh... just a little trapped." Everyone turned to the Hotel. John raised his binoculars. Against the bright glow, another dark speck, behind a window.

"Where's he at?" A voice rung out. Oz, John Guessed.

John quickly made the measurements. He had spotted for snipers before, and he assumed with the giant gun, well...

"Four from the top, five from the le-"

Another sound rang out, the crack of a bullet firing. The glass shattered. The black figure fell out. Another sound, air between feathers. One other figure now. Grabbing the first. Flying back.

John had no idea how much time had passed as the two Gryphons touched back on the ground. Gilda had Sparks, who must've been the one left in the window. Sparks was let onto the ground, hacking and coughing. Some of his chest was shiny. Feathers burnt off, the skin underneath cracking slightly. The people in John's party moved back, as a curse rung out from Gilda. John barely heard, adrenaline pounding through him.

"We're gonna hafta split. Shit like this doesn't heal easy for us." Gilda said, looking up at John. "They're all dead or distracted, so you should have an easy shot to the Conversion Bureau." Lead Wing had pulled out a stretcher of some kind, and he and Oz we sliding it underneath a grunting Sparks. "See you around." She finished off, heading back towards their group as they took flight again. And then they were off, the light fading quickly, bringing the group back into the darkness of night.

There were no more obstacles. It was a clear shot. John felt better then he had in years. He might even trust those Gryphons more, whoever the hell they were, anyway.


End file.
